


Beast

by Nope



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus Bestiality, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-06-24
Updated: 2003-06-24
Packaged: 2018-12-23 11:17:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11988699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nope/pseuds/Nope
Summary: Ginny (before and) after the final battle.





	Beast

Ginny goes for her wand but Peter is fast, too fast, slaps it away and grabs a pain sharp handful of hair. Ginny bites through the cry, bloodies her tongue and Peter's there, shoved up strong against her, screams "You bitch, you fucking bitch", saliva splattering hot on her cheek and Peter's too bright eyes against hers, Peter's face twisting, feral, inhuman and the tortured screech of "you've ruined everything, you fucking betrayed me, I can't believe you fuck--" vanishes into sudden lightness and a wet raspy gurgle.

Draco pulls his knife free. Peter slides down him, rolls off his boots.

Ginny gasps for breath, scrabbles in the dirt, retrieves her wand but finds no relief in it. Draco's still holding the knife in his left hand and when puts out his right to help her up they both realise it is slick with blood. Ginny grabs it anyway, clambers to her feet, studies Draco. He's lost his robes somewhere, is wearing a loose white shirt and tight black trousers that would be better placed at a poetry recital than on a battlefield. Both are slashed and stained. There's blood in his hair and his face is empty and his eyes are wide and so dilated they look almost perfect black. She sees herself in them, has a sudden memory of Peter's fingers on her so vivid she has to check herself to make sure it isn't still happening and, the second her eyes are off his, feels an insane urge to primp, to laugh, to bat her eyelashes, to vomit. She manages none of these. Neither has a thing to say.

She lets go of Draco's hand. It falls slowly to his side. He stares at Peter, then looks up at her, cocks his head and turns. She follows obediently. The air's thick with smoke, hot and bitter, the air greasy on her skin and she keeps swallowing but can't rid herself of the taste of it, the sick slick at the back of her throat. Draco walks with a heavy, measured tread and, though she does not notice his eyes move, sees and hoarsely hexes two attackers she only knows are there by following his wand light to the twitching, falling forms. The second is an Auror but she can't seem to care. The sky twists in knots and she looks away and sees a slither of green rushing ahead of them and thinks _Tom_.

Draco has to use his wand a dozen times and his knife twice more before they reach the centre of the carnage and find broken wands, a snapped sword, a circle of smashed bodies and Harry standing in Remus with his blistering hands tight around Voldemort's burning throat, holding him down on the cracked and bubbling stone altar. Ginny takes a step forward and Draco grabs her elbow and she shakes his hand off and runs forward before he can catch her again. She's only half way to Harry when she feels something break and her steps falter and then Draco is there at her side again and this time his hand is urging her not back, but forward.

They're side by side when Harry looks up and drops the remains of the body, hissing something from cut lips and Ginny feels hot, dry scales brush against her leg for a second but she can't take her eyes from Harry's to see quite what's happening. She hears breath catch and wonders what Draco is seeing, wonders if he's transfixed by Harry the way she is, by the blood and the bruises, the seared flesh and the steady burning light in his eyes.

"Miss Weasley." Harry grins at her and there's blood on his teeth and he holds out his arm.

And she takes it without hesitation.

~

Virginia fiddled with the tight emerald choker, cupped trembling fingers around her breasts, slid shaky palms flat down her stomach, pushed hard against herself with the heels of her hands, smoothed out the lines of the pale green dress that made her think of her mother's mint ice-cream and summers she'd never get back. The dress floated, dropping easily from the thin shoulder straps into liquid swirls about her ankles. She felt something like seasickness, like vertigo, sat, didn't look at her face in the mirror.

The door opened and she knew who it was by the sound of his footfalls though he made no other noise. She felt him stop a respectful pace behind her chair.

"They're waiting for me, I suppose." She took his silence for an affirmative. "I'll be down in a minute, Draco. I just need--" Her voice cracked and her eyes were hot and itching and she tilted her head back, blinking at the ceiling and it didn't help. "Oh, god, I'm not, I'm not going to cry, not going to--" but she already was and he knelt beside her chair and she turned into him, whispering "Stupid, stupid--" over and over.

Draco shushed her, brushed a thumb, a gloved hand against her cheek. It hurt to breathe and when she opened her mouth to speak all that came out was a mewling sob. He came close enough that she could feel his breath on her skin, but no closer. His gloves brushed her hair back, swept her cheeks clean. She closed her eyes, leaning into his hands and then, when that wasn't enough, came out of her chair and down and put her arms tight around him, feeling him tense, stiffen, cease breathing. He smelt faintly of Harry, the way people who work in bars always smell of smoke even when they haven't, and she breathed it in, breathed him in, and sighed and let go.

"Pretty stupid, huh?" Virginia smiled an apology, rubbing her fingers against her eyes. "Don't even know why I'm crying."

He said nothing, still kneeling, eyes taking the torchlight and reflecting it back at her. She turned back to the mirror, began correcting her makeup. Draco stood, picked a couple of ribbons the colour of her dress off the desk, brushed her hair back from her neck, began braiding the ribbons into it.

When her voice was steady, Virginia asked "He's going to be here?"

In the mirror, she saw Draco nod.

"We're going to do this." Not a question, but Draco nodded confirmation again.

She took a deep breath, watching the way it made her dress move, and then bent to pick up her shoes. Draco got there first and, as she lifted each leg in turn, slid them onto her feet, brushed his fingers against the glitter of her anklet and helped her to her feet. She swayed for a moment on the heels, much higher than she usually wore. Draco put out a hand to steady her, but she waved it away and looked up to ask him:

"Well? Am I beautiful?"

He touched her shoulder, held her gaze as he nodded.

"For a Weasley?"

A flickered half smile twitched across Draco's lips and he murmured, "For a Potter."

"That's right. A Potter." Virginia smiled happily; felt her cheeks flush, and was briefly amused at how much something so small could please her.

His face calm, eyes bright, Draco opened the door for her and gestured towards the corridor, inclining his head with extravagant politeness. She was still smiling as she swept past, and they walked in companionable silence along the corridors. 

Harry was waiting for them on the opposite balcony but she stopped for a moment to look down through the arches into the ballroom. The angle was wrong for picking out people's faces and, dressed up, they all pretty much looked alike, shimmers of gold and shadows of black. The vertigo came back for a moment and she turned away, saw Harry approaching in silver and a dark green that complimented her and seemed overly colourful against Draco's all black. Harry was fiddling with his hair, the too-pale skin on his hands in sharp contrast to the black locks. Something sharp twisted in her stomach.

"Will it always hurt like this?" she asked Draco, touching his elbow, hating the pleading note in her voice. "Does it -- it'll get better, right?"

Draco's face an empty mask, he leaned forward and she closed her eyes as he brushed cool, dry lips against her forehead.

"Ready," said Harry, appearing from behind her and looping an arm around her waist. His other fell lightly across Draco's unconsciously flinching shoulders. Virginia reached out automatically, closing the circle, leaning into Harry, feeling Draco brushing against her. She took a deep breath, let it go and stepped back out of their embrace, raising a hand to her face but stopping it before it touched.

"Is my make up okay?" she asked, then giggled at the inanity of the question.

"You're perfect," said Harry, grinning and held his arm out to her. "Shall we, Mrs Potter?"

"Indeed we shall, Mister Potter."

With Draco walking two steps behind and one to the side, they swept down the stairs into well staged applause.

~

Ginny comes home that summer to a house without a Scabbers and with a Ron who won't talk to her about it. He's been there so long he felt like a fixture and despite everything she isn't sure how she feels about his absence. She tries to talk to the twins but Fred just ruffles her hair and George tries to give her Toffee she won't take even when they offer money. Bill ruffles her hair too, and then laughs at her cross frown and tickles her until she's screaming with laughter and later, curled up warm and sated and drowsy against him, she forgets to ask. Charlie doesn't ruffle her hair but shrugs at the question and repeats it loudly to the crowded kitchen and Ron and her parents both rapidly change the subject.

Percy would be the best person to ask but that summer Percy is hardly ever around. She sees him occasionally wandering around the Burrow, before everyone else is up or after they've gone to bed, looking a little lost, eyes darting into the dark corners, but he's always scurried away before she can talk to him, burrowing back into his work. And then Hermione comes, and Harry, and after a while why Scabbers is gone doesn't seem as important as the fact that he is gone, completely gone, never to return.

And later, when she sees Ron going through all the family albums, pulling out all the pictures with Scabbers in and burning them, she rescues a photo of Percy with one arm around her shoulders and the other holding Scabbers up so she can stroke it, and keeps it in the little spelled chest only Hermione, who bought it for her, knows about, and takes it out on occasion and touches the tiny moving rat and thinks _goodbye, Peter_.

~

Virginia's fingers fluttered against the emeralds on her neck, watching her hand swirl around a drink the green of her dress. She wasn't quite sure what was in it, nor could she identify the bittersweet taste, but she could tell by Harry's often-returning glance and Draco's warning glare that it was probably quite alcoholic, and she didn't want to be drunk. Nor sober, for that matter, but definitely not drunk.

There were too many people in the ballroom. The Manor was big, it had been extended by generations of Malfoy's, but she doubted even they had intended two hundred to be in the room at once. Virginia could barely hear the orchestra through the roar of the crowd and people she didn't recognise kept coming up to congratulate her and kiss her cheek or hug her or touch her hand before vanishing just as swiftly back into the mess. Harry, likewise, was surrounded by admirers, well wishers, simpering Ministry officials and smarmy businessmen. Harry smiled genially at all of them and calmly deflected questions. Draco stood guard at Harry's shoulder, eyes on everything, while Virginia watched them both. 

It was Draco who saw _him_ first and as she turned her head to look she saw Harry's eyes go right there as well, without Draco having spoken.

Sirius Black was alone at the side table, slumped around his glass, and if his reputation had not already been keeping people away, his appearance would have. His hair hung down past his shoulders in thick grey streaked clumps and he was still wearing the robes he'd worn on the battlefield, badly patched and faded from hasty cleaning spells. Virginia's feet moved, her unsteady steps relaxing into an easy glide as she joined Harry and crossed the room towards his godfather.

Sirius looked up, blank eyed, staring towards but somehow not at them. The sharp thing in her stomach twisted again.

Harry softly asked "Sirius?"

"You look very much like your father," mused Sirius, dreamily. "A touch of your mother around you... but very much your father."

Virginia felt Harry tense beside her, touched her fingers to his arm.

"A ghost in flesh," murmured Sirius and then blinked suddenly and, as if noticing them for the first time, jumped to feet and exclaimed happily, "Harry!"

"Hello Sirius." Harry stepped forward to allow the other man to embrace him. "I'm pleased you came."

Sirius clapped a hand against his back then moved back, keeping the hand on Harry's shoulder, eyes oddly intent as he met the younger man's cool gaze. 

"Harry, Harry, Harry," sighed Sirius and then his eyes moved past and he smiled and held out his other hand, seeming not to notice it still had his glass in it. "And little Ginny!" She took a step and he grabbed her and pulled in, hugging the both of them at once. "Congratulations, you two!"

"Thank you," said Virginia, extricating herself from Sirius's grip and deftly relieving him of his glass before he splashed them both.

"I just wish Remus could have been here to see it. He--" Sirius's smile wobbled. "He always cried at weddings."

"I wish he was here too," said Harry. "It's been a while, Sirius."

"I tried to get here before the ceremony," said Sirius, not quite apologetically, "but... Well, I don't need to tell you that state of things, do I? I hear you're well placed to replace that bastard Fudge."

"It's a little early to tell--"

"Don't be modest, Harry." Sirius waved a hand at the crowd. "You've practically got the whole Ministry here already. Good plan, that. Always good with the plans, weren't you, Harry?"

Harry smiled thinly.

"Saved me once or twice, I know that much. Here, a toast to-- where did I--?" Sirius turned back to Virginia, seeing his glass in her hand, and took it back. "To the happy couple and our next Minister of Magic."

He raised the glass, waited for Harry and Virginia to do likewise, and then knocked half his back. Neither of other two drank. Sirius wiped his hand on the back of his hand. "Phew! That's good stuff."

"It's okay," shrugged Harry. "We lost a lot of bottles when the Aurors stormed the mansion."

"Yeah," said Sirius, eyes going unfocused for a moment. He shook himself, waving the glass. "Better than pond water and rat, though. Remember when I was staying outside Hogwarts? I swear, I was so hungry by the time you brought me that ham, I think I could've eaten Buckbeak." Sirius smiled sadly. "Good ol' Buckbeak. Remember him, Harry?"

"The Hippogriff," said Draco quietly, from behind Harry's shoulder.

Harry glanced at him, then turned back to Sirius and said, "I'm sorry; I have to attend to some things. You should stay the night, Sirius. We can put you up in the guest wing. We can catch up over breakfast."

"Sure, Harry. Ginny here can show me to my room," said Sirius, putting a hand on Virginia's wrist. "Right Gin?"

"If you're sure? Well then. Have a good night, Sirius."

"Good night, Harry."

Harry touched her arm as he moved past. Virginia nodded slightly and then he was gone, visible through the crowd only by the ever trailing flash of silver blond. She turned back to Sirius to find him staring just as intently after them and put her free hand on his where he was still holding her. "Come on, Sirius."

He made a small noise of agreement but his head didn't move; she tugged lightly and when he finally turned, his face was blank and his eyes so dark it seemed almost as if he was looking at her across some vast distance she couldn't begin to fathom.

"Come on," she repeated, softly.

"Remus would have known what--" Sirius shook his head, hard, gave her a false little smile. "I'm sorry to take you from the festivities, Ginny."

"It's okay." They began to walk. "I've never really been one for crowds."

Nodding a greeting to a passing dignitary, Virginia opened a small door, allowing Sirius to precede her into the corridor beyond, saying "We've set up some guest bedrooms in the South wing for those who didn't want to Floo home this evening."

"You can't Apparate on the Manor grounds," said Sirius, thoughtfully. "I remember Seamus--" He broke off, nodded at a painting. A blonde woman raised a gold mask to cover her face, turning away into the shadows of her frame. "Narcissa?"

Virginia nodded, adding, "Draco had his mother's picture restored after it was damaged in your raid--"

She too broke off. They shared an awkward glance then looked away. The corridor continued to a corner, and round it to a narrow flight of stairs which they began ascending.

"I hear they're thinking of giving him an Order of Merlin," said Sirius, after a while.

"Draco saved a lot of lives."

"More than me," said Sirius quietly.

"Take a left at the landing," said Virginia.

Sirius stopped at the top, looking back down at her. "You really do look good. I should have said that before."

Virginia ducked her head. "Drink your wine."

He smiled, sipped at it, held out his elbow for her to take. "I'm not really much of wine drinker. More a beer man."

"Bill was always the wine drinker," she said, looking down at their entwined arms. "I wish he could have seen the cellars. He would have loved it."

"The first time I came to the Burrow," said Sirius, but nothing followed it and they walked the rest of the corridor in silence, stopping outside the last door. "This it?"

She nodded. Sirius reached for the doorknob. Virginia said, "I remember."

Sirius paused, looked at her.

"I remember the first time-- I mean, none of my family told me you were, you know, you. I think Ron didn't quite trust Perce..." She crossed her arms, rubbing at her shoulders. "But I knew... There's a-- If you're looking for it, you know. When something's an Animagi. If you know to look, I mean. Something about the eyes. So, all the time we were playing. You played fetch, for-- All that time, you just being. And it was sorta funny. 'Cause you thought I thought you were. But I knew. Not that you were you, but that you weren't you. Dog you." She shook her head in annoyance. "I don't-- It's not coming out right."

"It's okay, Ginny. I know what you mean," said Sirius, reaching out to touch her face. She flinched and his hand dropped before it reached her. "Eyes are windows on the soul. They reveal more of the truth than their owners might wish."

She opened her mouth to speak, but he was already turning away from her, opening the door, revealing the bedroom beyond, a slice of the dresser and a better view of the four poster bed.

"That's actually something I wanted to talk to you about," added Sirius, stepping aside and holding a hand out in invitation. "Come in for a moment?"

"Of course," said Virginia, and swept past him.

He glanced both ways in the corridor before closing the door behind them and turning to lean back against it, watching her move around the room for a long moment.

"Were you going to talk?" she asked, smiling weakly.

"I don't really know how to begin. I--" Sirius suddenly smiled. "Sometimes, I feel like Moody, jumping at every shadow. But I just can't--" He shook his head, taking a sip of his wine and making a face. "This is very sweet for a red."

"I wouldn't know," she said.

"Yeah." Sirius wandered towards her, passed her almost close enough to touch, seeming not to notice her sudden shiver. "It's just... Well, have you noticed anything... different?"

"Different?"

"About Harry."

"Harry?"

"There's so few of us left... We're the last of them, you and me. The last of the old guard." Sirius sat heavily on the bed, shuffling back till his feet were swinging off the floor, kicking them against the bed frame, rubbing a hand against his forehead. "And Harry..."

"And Harry?" she prompted when he said nothing else.

"He still writes on occasion, but his letters are... I know I haven't seen much of him lately."

"You've been busy. Harry understands that."

Sirius shook his head. "It's not that. It's-- We're still getting the last of the Death Eaters. They're masters of hiding in plain sight, we both know that. It's hard to know when--"

"If this is about Draco--" interrupted Virginia, coming quickly to the foot of the bed.

"No! Well, yes. Maybe. I don't--"

"I trust him with my life, Sirius."

"Harry always hated Malfoy."

"It's different now."

"He--"

"It's different now," repeated Virginia, softly, kneeling in front of him. "Draco changed."

"He's not the only one. Look, Ginny, I know this is hard to hear but..." Sirius pulled at the collar of his robes, loosening them, not looking at her. "There's something about Harry. His whole attitude lately-- The things he's been saying and doing, all that stuff at the Ministry about greater security for the Wizarding World and whatnot? And he doesn't remember things he should, like Buckbeak. And he brought chicken, not ham--"

"That was years ago!"

"I know, I know, but... It's all the little things, Ginny. The way he signs his name on his letters. The way he stands. When we were at Gringotts he went straight to his vault first, instead of Dumbledore's like he always used to. And when he speaks, sometimes the way he says things--"

"Sirius, you're being paranoid. You're--"

"It's like he learned them out of a book, Ginny. It's like they're just facts to him." He leaned towards her, and she moved automatically forward until they were all but touching. "Did you know he hasn't visited the Memorial Wall? I mean, except for the official unveiling?"

"People grieve differently, Sirius."

"And what do we really know about the final battle, Ginny?" he asked as if she hadn't spoken. "You know how reckless he got after Dumbledore died. And then I-- You were there. It was a carnage and-- You have to have seen it Ginny. You can't tell me he's the same person you knew all those years at school. All those summers?"

"Maybe he's a little different," said Virginia, "but, Sirius, he survived a war--"

"War changes a person, yes, I know!" snapped Sirius, then sighed, shaking his head. "I know, Ginny. But Harry..."

Sirius stared at the glass in his hand, like he'd forgotten he was carrying it, raised it but lowered it before it reached his mouth. His hand shook, sending thin red streams down his fingers. She took the glass from him, then his hand, cleaning it with a slow swipe of her tongue before smiling up at him over his bruised knuckles, said "Mucky pup."

He closed his other hand over hers, over his. "Ginny--"

"Sirius."

His thumb brushed small circles into the back of her hand. "I don't think Harry's--"

"Harry is fine."

"He's not--"

"Harry's fine, Sirius."

"He's not, Ginny. I don't think he's even Harry."

"Who else could he be?"

"Ginny--"

"We won, Sirius," she whispered. "Can't you let it go? Please?"

Sirius shook his head, lifting her hand to touch his lips to her fingers, to press her hand to his cheek, whispered "I promised I'd save him" against her wrist.

She raised the other, still holding his glass, and, tilting her head back, drained it; full, a single burgundy droplet escaping down her lips as she moved forward, she crawled up onto the bed, straddling Sirius. His hands went automatically to her hips to steady her and he opened his mouth to protest and she sealed her lips to his, the last dregs of the wine sliding between them, leaking from the corner of his mouth and dribbling down his cheek. She tilted her head and licked him clean, a roughness of stubble against her tongue.

"We shouldn't--" began Sirius, then frowned as if he couldn't remember what he had been about to say and tried "You're married to--" and broke off again.

"You can say no, you know," said Virginia casually and wrapped her arms and legs tightly around him.

~

Ginny hides her secret in sound. The boys try silence but her mother always knows. Ginny talks instead. A lot. About everything. A wall of noise between her and the world, keeping it all at bay. It's Ginny who asks all the questions about the Prize Draw and their galleons and what they could spend it on. Chatterbox Ginny who suggests going to Egypt to be with Bill, Ginny who gets to call Bill and tell him the news and ask him all about his job and the goblins and the curses. Happy little Ginny who asks the silly questions and then giggles at the twins comments or blushes at Charlie's jokes. Brave little Ginny who holds Ron's hand as they take the international Floo, Ginny who laughs as they stumble out into sweltering heat, who makes the tour guide smile with her rapid fire questions about camels and snakes and sphinxes, just like an ordinary little girl.

The fear doesn't hit her until the sun is all but down, just a pink blur of sky outside the frosted glass, and she ducks her head under the blasting heat of the shower till the shaking goes away, till she can breathe and get out and safely smile at Ron when he complains she's used all the water and ask if he's sent a postcard to Harry yet.

And afterwards in the rapidly cooling heat and rising darkness, she waits for the furtive footsteps and the creak of hinges and for her bed to sag under added weight and smiles and opens her eyes and says, "Hello, Peter. I thought we might talk."

~

Virginia trembled as Sirius hands slid through her hair, turning into his touch as he undid the ribbons with fumbling fingers. He tightened his grip, pulling her down for a briefly burning kiss before removing the last of the green silk strips. It fluttered slowly down to the bed, releasing a cascade of red curling tresses that, with a toss of her head, she swept off her shoulders allowing Sirius to stroke his hands along them, slide his fingers under the straps of her dress, stop suddenly. 

She made a small annoyed noise. He looked up at her, eyes blank, fingertips moving in small circles against her skin, not moving enough to dislodge her dress. Holding his gaze she leaned forward to put her hands on his shoulders, kissed him and held it as she walked her finger tips down his arms and up to his hands. Broke the kiss with a flicker of tongue against his lips, rested her forehead against the fever of his, their faces curtained by her hair, moved his hands with her own, off her shoulders, taking the dress with them.

Sirius freed his hands, brought them to her sides and she rose up, letting him pull the dress down to her hips, reaching out for his robes and his fingers drifted down her skin. Piece by piece they stripped each other, discarding garments without notice until Sirius was bare and Virginia retained only her emeralds and her wand, with which she snuffed all the room lights save the two small torches on either side. The room thus draped in shadows vanished, leaving only a small circle of flickering light, the bed, and the two of them entwined upon it.

They kissed, the first soft, almost chaste, the second long, gentle, the third hard enough to bruise, the fourth, the fifth... Some time after she lost count, Sirius tipped his head back to catch her gaze but her fingers brushing backwards through his hair swiftly closed them around his skull and pulled him into her. She shivered as the tip of his tongue spread searing spirals down her throat, hissing as his teeth gently closed against her shoulder. Reaching blindly, she found the discarded glass and, scraping her fingers against its bottom, brought them to her breast. His mouth followed the thin dribble down, fingers burning across her back, hard furnace against her thighs, lips sucking her nipple into his wet heat. She bit back a moan, swallowed it down, feeling the emeralds move against her throat; the sharp trace taste of wine cut like razors. 

Sweat glistened against her fingers, Sirius shimmering in the torchlight; and there was a light now, sparkling in his eyes, almost growling as he fell backwards, pulled her with him, onto him. She felt a sudden, buzzing, hysterically urgent need to laugh, squeezed her eyes closed and stilled it against his mouth, sliding slick against his stomach. His nails scratched random lines across her back, seized her hips hard enough to bruise, positioning her against him. It wasn't enough, and she reached down to guide him home, pushing back against the heat, drawing it in, burning deep inside her, bracing her knees so she could rock against him. He moved to meet her, with her, lifting her with surprising strength that squeezed a whimpering gasp from her and forced her eyes open. 

Instantly his were on hers, bright and feverish and stabbing into her skull, like she was transparent, like he was reading every thought burning inside her. She froze and he growled, thrusting, coaxing movement from her she refused to make, pulled a little away from him and planted her hands against his chest when he tried to rebury himself. The fire in his eyes faded into glassy confusion. She slid back down him, eliciting a broken moan, and lowered her lips to his ear to demand "Change for me."

"Wuh--?" 

Sirius gaped at her stupidly and she straightened up, slapped him before she knew she was going to, growling "Change!"

His confused look persisted and her hand came back up of its own accord and Sirius caught it, caught her other wrist as well, lips curling into something with lots of teeth that wasn't quite a grin, and then she was somehow on her back on the bed with Sirius over her, still in her, holding her wrists above her head and her legs rose to encircle him and she spat "Change" in his face and he grinned and bit at her shoulder and _shifted_ and--

The mass, the sudden settling weight of him, drove all breath from her body. Claws scratched down her wrists, nicked her sides as his paws dropped to the bed, white lines turning red as blood welled. The weight lifted and managed a gasp as rough fur grew against her scrabbling hands and shifting thighs and pained washed up her body from where he was growing inside her, wider, deeper, the alien shape of him stretching her to the edge of endurance. She tightened her legs around him but it did not slow the thrusts pushing her up the bed. Her hands found his face, amber eyes locked on her, too human for the muzzle beneath her fingers. She traced the shape of his teeth as a growl rattled out of his throat and his jaw dropped, tongue lolling.

She curled one hand deep in his fur, twisting it hard around her fingers, urging him on, short stabbing movements that forced the greater thickness of him deep into her to the accompaniment of a wild, reckless thrusting that brought the heat rushing back, a rising inferno in her core, and she thought suddenly of Harry plunging a fang through parchment, of Tom ripping and tearing and fragmenting, and her hands clenched, the one in his fur and other at her emeralds, ripping both free. Sirius made a strangled barking noise, humping hard, short, frantic motions that made sweat explode from her skin, sweat and blood as his careless paws caught her, the thin flames spreading to join the greater heat, the fire raging in her, dark red spots, bruises behind her eyelids, Sirius tight against her, no room for breath, for thought, hands slick with her own blood, emeralds and fur in them, pushing into him though there's nowhere to go, a frenzied yelping at her ears drowned beneath the hammering of her heart, and he burnt inside her, pulsing wet heat, filling and spilling and still jerking against her and just as the explosion took her she drove the emeralds into the soft flesh of his side hard enough to draw blood and exhaled the words she had been taught into the inescapable darkness.

~

Ginny sinks down, sliding silently under sweet slow ink into his warm embrace. Tom smiles his small sharp smile and closes his arms around her. He smells the way Harry shouldn't. Ginny touches his face, says _I see your faces in reflections_ and Tom just laughs.

_  
_

_Sometimes_ , she says. _Sometimes._

She lies spread-eagled on a sea of undulating snakes, hot scales slithering against bare flesh. Tom unfolds her, slides out each separate memory for his close inspection and replaces them with secrets of his own. He puts names to the shadows around her and shows her that her own are nothing to the burning darkness which will scar the skies and smother the seas and sign his name in a never-ending circle around the Earth, marking the world as his possession.

_  
_

_Sometimes,_ she mouths, and, _if I stare long enough_ and _I see_ and she gasps _Tom_ , a soundless twitch of her tongue and he hisses _Miss Weasley_ and she cries and soars, heat slick and seared, his fingers staining her skin till she expects to wake to find his words inked upon it and Tom, whispering in her ear, tells her about his enemies and his servants and those who were both, the living and the dead, tells of Lucius and Severus and Peter and James and Remus.

And then Tom tells her all about Sirius Black.

~

Virginia came back to herself in fits and starts, aware first of the weight against her, then of the rasping soreness, the lines in her flesh that still burned, the thickness of her throat and the tears drying on her cheek. Her eyelids were lead weighted but she forced them open, peering between the bars of her eyelashes at the black mass on the bed beside her, unsteadily rising and falling. Her hand shook as she reached out, brushing her fingers through the fur. A faint thumping marked the weak beating of the tail.

Her hand dropped away. She tried to push herself up and something beneath her broke against her palm, slicing it open. She cried out, snatching her hand back. A large sliver of glass was stuck in the muscle below her thumb. 

"Damn it!" Whimpering, she pulled it free with her teeth, spitting away the cold sharpness, the copper heat. "Of all the stupid--"

The dog whined, swiping her palm with his rough tongue. She pushed his muzzle away.

"Stop it."

He dipped his head to look at her, eyes wide.

"Stop it! Stop--! You ...stupid... Stupid. Stupid!" She hit him, fists drumming against fur. He whimpered, skittered sideways slightly, and then just crouched there, cringing and taking the blows. "How could you have been. So. Stupid?"

The dog looked at her, head drooped, and she slumped back against his side, burying her face in his fur. "All your fault. All your-- poor Harry's parents and Ron and Remus and Dumbledore and Peter and why'd you have to, why did you, you, you trusted, you stupid, stupid, you fucked everything up, you fucked it all up and now I, I'm all, I'm--"

A cloth covered hand caught her wrist, pulling her around. Something invisible brushed her cheek and when she flinched, there was a rustle of cloth and an odd flowing motion in the air that left Harry revealed, kneeling beside her in a half circle of shimmering cloth. It was fascinating, holding her gaze even when Harry tried to turn her head to face him. He smiled out of the corner of her eyes and, leaning in, brushed a warm, dry kiss against her cheek.

"Don't," she said.

"Don't what?" he asked, lifting something from the bed. "Look. You lost your ribbons."

She shivered against his touch, turning at his silent command, allowing him to run his fingers through her hair, working out the tangles and tying the ribbons back in. When he turned her back around, she was holding her wand, pointing it at him, shaking, blood dripping from her hand, sliding down the wood. Harry just smiled, reached out to steady her hand with the wand tip pressed against his chest. Her mouth opened and closed, silently.

"Well?" asked Harry, pressing a hand between her thighs, his fingers coming away smeared and sticky. "Perhaps you should clean yourself up."

The wand dropped, hanging limply in her half open hand. After a moment she nodded, rising from the bed. Harry turned back, rubbing his fingers clean on the broken necklace before snapping one of the emeralds free. From inside his robe he pulled out a small leather strip and, with a brief whispered Charm, joined one to the other.

"A potion in the wine, a charm on the jewels, blood and breath, sex and semen," mused Harry, tying the collar tight around the dog's neck, the stained emerald all but hidden by fur. "So much messier than wand magic but so much more... permanent." He leaned in, lips brushing a twitching ear. "Did you know there's no record whatsoever that you're an Animagus, Mister Black?"

The dog stared stupidly at him, panting. 

"Don't worry. We'll keep you around." Harry's lips briefly curled. "My Virginia likes them strange."

He turned to watch her pull on her dress, crossed the room with easy grace to straighten the straps. She turned her head away. He brushed his fingertips up her neck, across her cheeks, buried them in her hair and turned her to kiss him. After a second her arms went around his waist and she melted against him. Harry broke the kiss, smiled and topped it with a brief brush of lips, then turned with an arm around Virginia to whistle over his shoulder, "Come along, boy."

The dog half jumped, half fell off the bed and padded unsteadily over to them.

"Let's hope Nagini takes a liking to him," said Harry. 

Virginia laughed, opening the door and following the dog out through it to where Draco was silently waiting. 

"I believe there were Ministry officials waiting to talk with me?" Harry put out a hand without looking, catching his cloak as it folded neatly across the air and into his grasp. "Let's not keep them waiting, then."

As he turned to close the door behind them, for a moment his eyes glowed a brilliant red in the torchlight.


End file.
